


Dear No One

by getpitchslapped



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Unrequited Beca/Chloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3999196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getpitchslapped/pseuds/getpitchslapped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the song “Dear No One” by Tori Kelly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear No One

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt asking for a fic based on the song "Dear No One" by Tori Kelly.

_I like being independent_

_Not so much of an investment._

_No one to tell me what to do._

_I like being by myself_

_Don’t gotta entertain anybody else._

_No one to answer to._

“Beca! Hey, Beca!”

“Not now, Jesse.”

Per usual, Jesse ignores brushes off Beca’s comment and jogs over her, slowing his pace to a walk once he’s caught up. Beca rolls her eyes and shoves her hands in her pockets, walking more quickly.

“I thought maybe we could get dinner tonight? Maybe watch a movie later?” he suggests, giving her those stupid puppy-dog eyes that can, at times, be kind of cute.

But now is not one of those times.

“No.” Beca pulls the hood of her sweatshirt up to hide part of her face from Jesse’s view. If only the concept of “out of sight, out of mind” worked as well on him as it did on Beca’s six-month-old cousin.

“But we can—”

“No.” Beca stops walking, facing Jesse and giving him a hard look. “I don’t feel like it.”

Jesse deflates. “Okay, okay. Another time?”

Beca rolls her eyes again. “Uh, maybe.”  _Uh, no._

It’s clear that Jesse takes this as an affirmative. “Cool. See you later, Bec,” he says, and jogs off. Beca slides the headphones resting around her neck to cover her ears. No music is playing, but hopefully it’ll deter anyone else who wants to speak to her. She starts again in the direction of her dorm, where she had been planning to spend the afternoon “writing a paper” (working on a mix), when her phone buzzes from inside her pocket. Beca pulls it out and looks at the screen.

_**Chloe Beale:**  Hey Beca, want to come over, order pizza, and watch some crappy TV? Homework is just not happening today._

It’s nearly the same request that was just proposed to her by Jesse, but this time, Beca smiles. She taps at the screen of her phone, doing an about-face and walking in the direction of Chloe’s apartment.

_**Beca Mitchell:**  Absolutely. Heading your way now._

* * *

_But sometimes, I just want somebody to hold_

_Someone to give me their jacket when it’s cold._

_Got that young love even when we’re old._

_Yeah sometimes, I want someone to grab my hand_

_Pick me up, pull me close, be my woman._

_I will love you till the end._

Beca knocks twice as she simultaneously opens the door to Chloe and Aubrey’s apartment. “Hey, it’s Beca,” she calls out, as to not startle its inhabitants (she once found herself on the wrong end of the shoe Aubrey had been wearing that day, and she never wants to be there again).

“Hi!” Beca hears, and she follows the voice to the small living room. Chloe is curled up on the couch, a textbook laying open haphazardly on the edge of the coffee table, the remote to the television serving to mark the page. Chloe reaches for it and mutes the sound, flipping the book shut and shoving it to the floor. She pats the seat next to her.

“What’re we watching?” Beca asks, shedding her sweatshirt and plopping down on the couch, folding her legs underneath her.

“America’s Next Top Model,” Chloe says, pulling at Beca’s shoulder until it’s close enough for her to rest her head on it.

Beca watches the TV for a moment. “It must be a pretty old episode if Janice Dickinson’s judging.” When Chloe doesn’t respond, Beca turns to look at her. Chloe is staring at her, clearly trying not to laugh. Beca’s face flushes. “You watch this show a lot, okay? I notice things,” she mumbles.

Chloe’s resolve breaks and she bursts out laughing, wrapping an arm around Beca and pulling her into her side. “You’re so cute.”

“I am not,” Beca protests, but she cuddles into Chloe’s side nonetheless. She takes a deep breath, breathing the light, flowery scent that is part some Bath & Body Works scent and part mix of a fruity shampoo and another unidentified scent that can only be described as _Chloe_. (Beca once tried to describe it to Jesse, but it only ended with him staring at her like she was crazy before finally just laughing at her.)

“Right, of course,” Chloe drawls, settling her chin on Beca’s head. She yelps when Beca jabs her elbow backwards, connecting with Chloe’s ribs. “Ow, you bitch! You just offered to pay for the pizza.”

“I thought I was paying for it anyway—or do you actually have cash this time?” Beca says, craning her neck to look at Chloe, eyebrow raised.

“That was  _one time_ ,” Chloe huffs. “Although I am grateful you were there so I didn’t have to resort to… other methods to pay him.” She waggles her eyebrows and laughs when Beca’s face reddens.

“Shut up,” Beca mumbles and turns back to face the TV.

“You know you love me,” Chloe says, and Beca turns to look at her again. Chloe smiles down at her, their faces only a few inches apart, so close Beca can smell her breath—some sort of mint from Chloe’s gum flavor of the day (really, that girl has a gum problem). Involuntarily, Beca’s gaze flicks to Chloe’s lips; when she looks back at her face again, it seems to have moved closer. Her eyes flicker shut, and she inhales sharply, bracing herself for the inevitable impact of Chloe’s lips. And they  _do_  impact, but not where Beca thought they would land.

On her forehead.

Beca’s eyes snap back open to see Chloe sitting herself up, reaching for her cell phone which is on the coffee table. She turns to Beca like nothing is out of the ordinary. “Pepperoni, right?”

Beca blinks. “Um, yeah.”

“Great.” Chloe gives Beca one of her signature smiles before she begins to dial the phone.

“Great,” Beca repeats.

 _Greeeeeat_.

* * *

_I don’t really like big crowds._

_I tend to shut people out._

_I like my space, yeah_

_But I’d love to have a soulmate._

_God will give her to me someday_

_I know it’ll be worth the wait._

“So Beca, ” Jesse starts, glancing up from the CD cases he’s stacking to give Beca those damned puppy dog eyes.

“No,” Beca says, not looking up. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s pouting.

“But you didn’t even know what I was going to say,” he whines, and—yep—he’s pouting.

Beca sighs. “Jesse, I’m really not in the mood to watch a movie.”

“You’re never in the mood to watch a movie,” Jesse complains.

“Yes, because I  _don’t like movies_ ,” Beca says exasperatedly, throwing her hands in the air.

“Yeah, okay, but I really think you’ll like—whoa!” Jesse ducks, narrowly dodging a CD case flying toward his head. “Hey! What the hell?”

Beca shrugs one shoulder. “Oops.”

“You could have damaged my face!” Jesse points aggressively at his eyebrow.

“It’s not like it’s ever going to make you money,” Beca grumbles, moving toward a shelf on the far end of the studio (partly to escape from Jesse, partly out of fear of retribution).

There’s a pause before Jesse shouts, “Hey!” Beca nonchalantly browses the CDs on the shelves, picking one out and scanning its back. “What is with you today?” Jesse asks, still sounding a bit angry.

“You’re the one who keeps bugging me about movies when you  _know_  I don’t like them,” Beca says, glancing up and quirking an eyebrow.

“But I—”  
“Just cut it out, man,” Beca says, ignoring the hurt look on Jesse’s face. “Give me a little bit of space.”

Jesse nods resignedly and disappears into the shelves.

* * *

_So if you’re out there I swear to be good to you_

_But I’m done lookin’ for my future someone._

_‘Cause when the time is right_

_You’ll be here, but for now_

_Dear no one, this is your love song._

“Hey, it’s me.”

“ _Oh, hi Beca, what’s up?”_  Chloe sounds a little out of breath on the other end of the phone.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Beca asks, nestling her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she sticks her keys in the lock of the door of her room.

 _“No, it’s fine.”_  Chloe’s voice sounds more normal now.  _“I didn’t hear my phone ring at first so I ran to grab it before I missed the call.”_

“Oh,” Beca says, tossing her backpack on her bed. Her room is devoid of Kimmy Jin, who has been spending copious amounts of time in the library as of late. “I was wondering if you want to get dinner later?”

 _“I can’t tonight, Bec. I’m sorry,”_  Chloe says.  _“I have a date.”_

“A date?” Beca repeats dumbly, an anxious, fluttery sensation appearing in her stomach.

 _“Yeah,”_  Chloe says excitedly, and Beca can imagine her grinning on the other end of the phone.  _“He’s a junior here and he plays basketball. We’re just going to eat dinner and see a movie.”_

 _Dinner and a movie. A movie._  Chloe had never once asked Beca if she wanted to watch a movie after Beca told her that she didn’t like them.

_“Beca?”_

Beca realizes that she’s been silent for several seconds. “Uh, that sounds nice. Have fun.”

 _“Thanks!”_  Chloe says, then makes a kissing noise into the phone.  _“I have to start getting ready. Love you! Bye!”_  The line goes dead.

“I love you too,” Beca whispers into the phone, before she drops it onto her bed. She sinks down next to it and braces her head in her hands.

_Dear no one, this is your love song._


End file.
